The Business Dinner

The Business Dinner

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Is it a good idea to invite your Dominant to a business dinner with your colleagues?


Is it a good idea to invite your Dominant to a business dinner with your colleagues?

Chapter1 (v.1) - The Business Dinner

Author Chapter Note

Is it a good idea to invite your Dominate to a business dinner with your colleagues?

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: November 05, 2012

Reads: 5678

Comments: 1

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: November 05, 2012




I took a deep breath and sighed. A business dinner. A business dinner with him! I took another deep breath and tried to steady my shaking hands. Neither the business dinner nor the thought of him were making me tremble. It was because I’d forgotten his rules wouldn’t change just because we’d be in public.

Damn! I should have realised it when I asked him a couple of weeks ago. I wondered why he didn’t make such a big deal about it. He simply raised a single eyebrow, staring at me intensely for a long moment before that wicked smile of his curled upon his sensuous lips.

“I’d be delighted, my dear,” he murmured quietly.

With a sudden sinking feeling, I now realised this evening would be no ordinary business dinner with my colleagues. Up until now, Mr Lennox had never interfered in my career. It was the one “out of bounds” territory in our relationship. I bit my lip in frustration at my foolishness. Without thinking I had just made it “in bounds”. Mr Lennox would never relinquish his firm grip on me just because of what my colleagues might think. He couldn’t give a fuck whether or not they disapproved.

I winced at my stupidity, wondering why I even gave a fuck about what they thought. Oh, you know why! That admonishing voice in my head scolded me. Tonight was one of those “let’s get together for dinner and drinks after work” affairs; one of those social gatherings where everyone was supposed to drag their “significant other” to and show them off.

Oh, I’d love to show Mr Lennox off. It’s just all those damn vanilla questions I was dreading. “It’s complicated” didn’t even begin to define our relationship. Those awkward small talk conversations where already on playback in my mind.

“My boyfriend and I like to go hiking and photograph on the weekends. What does your boyfriend like to do with you?”

“Oh… ummm… he’s not my boyfriend… he’s like my Owner, and he likes to handcuff me to playground equipment in the middle of the night and fuck me so hard I can’t remember what my name is.”

I snorted a laugh picturing the look of shock on Cheryl’s face until another afterthought shot into my mind. Oh, shit! I didn’t even talk him about suspending protocol.

“Damn it!” I hissed rubbing my eyes and drawing my hands down my pale cheeks. I’m going to fuck up. I’m going to fuck up, and Mr Lennox is going to take his pleasure in punishing me. That’s probably the only reason why he even agreed to come with me. Fuck! And now there’s no way I can get out of this. Mentally, I could hear cold, hard handcuffs clicking closed around the confines of my mind.

I stood in the bath, wearing nothing but sheer black thigh-high stocking and my ersatz-collar – a simple pure silver chain that I was never allowed to take off. It was my public collar; his symbolic chain of ownership. I stared at myself in the mirror, fingering his chain tenderly. Maybe he’d behave differently in public with me. After all, I wore this chain to work and not a leather collar. Maybe he’ll let me call him ‘John’ just for tonight. I sighed and applied foundation to my face.

“But what if he doesn’t?” I demanded an answer from the image starting back at me. The thought of using some typical vanilla term of endearment, like “honey” or “darling” nauseated me. Not only didn’t it sound right, but I hated using those names even when I was still vanilla. Calling him ‘John’ – even once – was a surest method to get my arse beat so hard I wouldn’t be able to sit for a week. I bit my lip again and muttered another curse under my breath. I was in ‘free fall’; that state of being he loved to put me in, where I was completely powerless. I couldn’t anticipate how he’d react, what he’d say or do. I couldn’t stop any of it. Well, I could, but I just didn’t want to. It was like tumbling through the heavens with a parachute on your back. Would it open in time? Would it even open at all? Once you’ve jumped for John Lennox, you just can’t stop the free fall.

Pull yourself together! I admonished myself. You’re not worried about controlling him. You’re worried about controlling the situation. Well, you already jumped without thinking. You’re already falling. In fact, you’ve been falling since last week, but you just woke up and realised it now. So, stop worrying! He’ll catch you. He always catches you.

I was distracted from my reverie by the sound of my apartment door opening and closing. I frowned in the middle of applying my eye shadow, my heart skipping a beat. That could only him, because he was the only other person who had a key. Nervously I glanced at the clock on the wall. Mr Lennox had specifically told me to meet him at his apartment in one hour from now. We were supposed to be at the restaurant in two hours. What was he doing here? My stomach knotted, fearing I’d forgotten something and had already fucked-up before the evening had even begun. Mr Lennox was punctual. He was never early, and he was never late. So if he was here early, then that meant… Oh! That’s why! I smiled into the mirror finishing my eye shadow.

“I’m in the bath, Sir. I’ll be out in a moment”, I called.

He didn’t answer. He simply appeared, looming behind me as he stared at my reflection in the mirror. Our eyes met; our gazes locking into one long breathless stare. I could feel the butterflies escaping as all the muscles south of my navel tightened. I swallowed hard at the raw hunger in his intent gaze. I don’t know how he did it time after time, but he always held me breathless and spellbound with that look.

My face felt flush, and there must be colour rising in it. I glanced down, looking at my hands, willing them to stop their trembling. Taking a couple uneven shallow breaths, I managed to say, “Good evening, Sir”, surprised how low and husky my voice was.

Compose yourself! The disapproving voice in my head ordered me. I looked up again and smiled politely. “I’m not quite ready yet, Sir. You did ask me to meet you in your apartment in one hour.” I looked pointedly at the bathroom clock on the wall.

I couldn’t help myself. I stared back unabashed into his steady gaze. His hooded brown eyes had grown darker, hungrier. His gazed dropped to my nipples and I followed them in my reflection, my mouth dropping open in discovering how hard they’d grown. I had to fight against theurge to cover myself, because that would earn me a quick dozen whacks on my bare arse and I certainly didn’t relish having to explain to my colleagues why I preferred standing this evening instead of sitting. There was nothing I could do about the colour rising from my neck to my cheeks. His hands brushed up along my wrists to my shoulders, his fingertips grazing my naked flesh. I shivered as his fingers closed around my shoulders. He nuzzled the shell of my ear, his soft moustache bristles tickling my ear. I gasped, feeling my desire go liquid.

“Good evening, my dear. Yes, I said that, didn’t I?”

His voice was calm and controlled. I could never figure how he could be like that. His voice revealed absolutely no trace of any of those burning emotions I’d seen in his eyes. His hands brushed down from my shoulders to cup my breasts. He pulled me sharply against the length of his body. I gasped. I could feel the heat of his hardening erection against the naked skin of my arse, burning through the soft material of his linen trousers. My eyes slid closed and I moaned, tilting my head back against his shoulder while his experienced fingers softly massaged my nipples. I felt them grow harder and longer. I relaxed, falling into him, remaining motionless and spellbound under my Master’s touch and smiled at the sound of his soft laughter, deep and throaty. Then I felt that familiar tingle of desire creep over my spine.

“I’m still not ready, Sir. I know how you disapprove of tardiness.”

He nipped my shoulder. “You’re not ready yet? You look ready to me.”

His voice reverberated softly against the side of my neck, and I felt his fingers travel down my body lightly, tracing a path from my breast to curl against the apex of my thighs – that place he simply referred to as My Property. Without thinking, I shifted my stance to spread my legs wider offering him better access. Gently he ran his fingers the length of my pussy, stroking its soft flesh, his middle finger furrowing deeper until he found the entrance.

“Oh yes, you feel like you’re very ready, my dear”, he whispered against my ear as his finger delved inside me, pulling a trail of hot liquid out and drawing it up the length of my furrow to moisten my clit. I moaned as his finger lightly circled my clit, feeling his lips twitch to a satisfying smile against my skin. He continued to insert his finger, massaging me from the inside, tapping against my pubic bone. I groaned under this sweet torture, a hungry gasp escaping my lips. When his thumb and finger rolled the bud of my clit, gently pinching it, I bit my lip suppressing another moan.

I begged for mercy. “Mmmm… Sir, please… if you continue this, I’ll never make it to your apartment on time.”

He clucked his tongue with mock disappointment. “Oh, late again, my dear? What shall I do with you?”

“If you just allow me to finish dressing, Sir…” I murmured between gasps.

My mouth formed a silent ‘o’ as his other hand gently tugged on my nipple. He released it and I felt the tug on the chain around my neck.

“To whom do you belong to, my dear?” he demanded in a harsh voice.

My eyes snapped open, my heart skipping a beat, but I couldn’t suppress a grin. “You, Sir!”

“Good. Don’t forget it!”

“Yes Sir, but it might not such a good idea to tell Mr Harrison about that this evening. He’s seems to think I’m his property from nine to five during the week.”

He pulled the chain tighter, the hard silver links biting into the soft flesh on my neck. “He only employs you, my dear. I own you!” He growled, thrusting his finger deep inside His Property.

A soft groan escaped my mouth, before I could say, “Yes Sir.”

“Good!” he snapped and bit into my shoulder. He chuckled when I flinched, and curled his finger inside me to keep me immobile. “And because I own you, everything that’s yours automatically belongs to me, doesn’t it, my dear?”

“Yes Sir!”

“Good. That includes this apartment. It’s my apartment, isn’t it my dear?”

My eyes opened, and I was going to say something, but his finger inside me pushed with such sweet agony against the front wall of my vagina. I groaned again. “Yes Sir.”

“Good, then you aren’t late. You’re early.”

He withdrew his hand from my pussy and I breathed a sigh of relief, laughing softly.

“Are you laughing at me, my dear?”

“No, Sir. I’m laughing because I never thought of it that way, Sir.”

“Perception, my dear. It’s all a question of perception.”

I looked at his face questioningly in the mirror. He grasped my shoulders and spun me around, pulling me hard against him, before he covered my mouth in a hot savage kiss, leaving me no doubt whose property I was. I relaxed against him, my arms curling around him, moaning softly when I felt his velvet tongue slip into my mouth and stroke my tongue. His lips played over mine in a myriad of drugging kisses until I felt him gently pushing me down towards the floor.

Carefully I knelt on one knee then the other, my hands falling motionless to my sides, my eyes downcast to the floor. He cupped my chin gently, tilting it upward. For a long moment we looked into each other’s eyes and I could see his desire, that unspoken bond between us. He had the look of a caged tiger, just a heartbeat away from uncontrolled raging hunger. He clawed at his belt, unfastening his trousers and quickly freed his swollen cock. I gazed upon his proud erection, smiling as I felt the liquid pool in both my mouth and between my legs.

My breasts heaved with my shallow breathing. He was so close and his scent flooded my senses. I wanted to taste him so very badly, but John Lennox had taught me patience in both painful and pleasurable lessons. Self-restraint was a hard-fought battle pitting my reason against my hunger. And the greater my hunger, the more it pleased Mr Lennox to watch me fight my baser instincts; all those animalistic expressions of urge passing over my face. He liked to release the caged animal inside me at the very last minute when I was on the cusp between sanity and madness.

My fingers flexed nervously at my side, and slowly I swayed. A drop pre-cum appeared at the end of his glorious cock. My senses screamed Want! I opened my mouth then bit down on my lower lip. No! Not until He speaks! The scent of his cologne and his male essence made me squeeze all of my belly muscles together in frustration. A low moan came from my throat I didn’t register. I closed my eyes, for all the good it did. The sight of his proud desire was still in my mind, and his scent became headier. My hands began to shake, followed by my arms and in a flash I shook with my wanting. How he could stand there and watch me in this state was beyond my comprehension. I snapped my eyes open again and looked up into his face. I knew my naked desire was written there, and now the real battle of wills began. This was what he wanted: to test whose hunger was greater. Would I beg first, or would he break down and take me? Whichever he chose, 'I' always lost, but 'we' always won.

Seconds seem to drag into an eternity. I didn’t dare blink or avert my gaze. He blinked first, before he raised an eyebrow.

“I do believe you forgotten something, my dear”, he announced testily.

I frowned. Forgotten? Forgotten what?

He smiled cruelly at the puzzled look on my face then shook his head in disbelief. “It almost sounds like you require another lesson about protocol, my dear.”

Protocol? Oh, shit! I forgot to greet him properly. My arms snapped behind my back and my head bowed to the floor. He couldn’t see the smile I was repressing. Forgetting protocol, indeed! Good thinking Mr Lennox! My smile disappeared promptly when he lifted my chin, and he stroked my cheek with the backs of his fingers.

My voice was the study of control, but my gaze was on fire when I said, “Good evening, Mr Lennox.” Then I leaned forward to kiss the velvet smooth tip of his cock.

The clucked his disapproval. “So now it’s ‘Good evening, Mr Lennox’ is it?” He mocked me, pulling his cock away from my lips.

My eyes snapped back up into his face, glowering. I hated it when he frustrated me like this. His eyebrow cocked, daring me to defy him. I closed my eyes, draining my thoughts. With a short jerk of my head to the side I schooled my attitude and opened my eyes again.

“I humbly apologise, Sir. I am sadly remiss. I was… umm… distracted.” My voice was sincere, because pissing Mr Lennox off was the most certain method to ruin the moment, the evening, or the whole fucking week.

“I see…” he mused. “Potentially late and now distracted.” He clucked his tongue. “What shall I do with you, my dear?”

“As you wish, Sir.”

He clasped my chin firmly, bending down and pulling my face close to his. “Exactly! As I wish!”

“Yes, Sir.” My heart beat wildly. It always scared me half to death when he was like this. Something inside me always expected he’d hit me in the face, though he’d never done that. I didn’t dare flinch. If I did that, he’d turn me over his knee immediately.

“Good!” His face transformed from stern disapproval to a cruel grin. “And now I wish your mouth on my cock, because your mouth belongs to me and it's mine to fuck.” He clasped my chin and brushed his thumb over my lower lip before he inserted it, gently running his thumb over my tongue. I moaned, still motionless upon my knees and sucked his thumb hard, like the acquiescent child I was. He withdrew his wet thumb, wiping the saliva on my lower lip and chin.

“Open your mouth” he ordered. I do as I’m told. He brushed the head of his cock over my lower lip, like an artist making a long, smooth brushstroke. I lost to suppressing my want and let my tongue chase after his cock head softly flicking at the eye of his cock down its groove. Looking up I saw how the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile of satisfaction. He brushed again in the opposite direction with my tongue in hot pursuit. I ventured with my tongue and licked the side of his hard ridge, drawing it along the relief form of his bulging veins.

Suddenly he pulled his cock just out of reach again. I looked up quizzically in his face and I grinned, recognising his desire to tease.

“Here it is, girl. Come get it!” he ordered in a deceptively soft, husky voice.

I gasped a short laugh and leaned towards his waiting cock. Still he teased, pulling it out of reach at the last moment to brush against my flushed cheek and over my nose.

Tu tanquines mon Seigneur!” I accused him.

Non!” he answered in mock outrage. “C’est vrai?

I suppressed a giggle. He damn well knew what he was doing and he was loving every minute of it, toying with me, making me chase his magnificent cock and pulling it out of my reach again. I strained my head to pursue it again.

Without thinking I lifted a hand to snatch at his sceptre. Before my fingers could enclose around his length he captured my wrist, lifting it above my head. I gasped, but couldn’t suppress a laugh. I still had another hand free. The moment I lifted it he took that one captive too, holding me by my wrists over my head. I did not attempt to wrest them free, feeling the excitement of him holding me captive like that. And then he thrust his hips forward to meet my lips. I pulled my lips tight around his cock as he entered my mouth, relaxing my jaw, sucking him deep inside, letting him sink until my lips were almost against his belly.

Never able to shake my gag reflex, he remained still for a moment enjoying it while my tongue massaged the underside of his cock through my slow gag reflex. He trusted me enough that if I ever found this unpleasant I’d withdraw. For me, the knowledge of how much he enjoyed this was the unadulterated pleasure which held me here, my tongue moving on its accord like a hot velvet wave on the underside of his thick cock from his fraenulum to his hilt.

I inhaled the musky scent and moaned a low vibrating tone against his length. Slowly he pulled himself out and I sucked hard on his ebbing cock, my lips smacking loudly as his knob broke the seal of my lips. He swung the glistening head of his cock across my lips and cheek, before I captured its head and he plunged back to the depths of my mouth as I sucked him hard down my throat.

He fucked my mouth in exquisite slow motion for a few moments until I could taste the saltiness of his pre-cum on the back of my tongue. I moaned in the anticipation he was about to cum in my mouth, but instead he tightened his grip on my wrists harder and removed himself. I opened my eyes looking up at him expectantly, having no clue as to what he intended to do next.

He released my wrists suddenly. Tingling, they fell limp to my sides and I stared at him breathlessly, waiting for his next cue. He clawed at his clothes, pulling his silk tie off and quickly unbuttoned his shirt. It was cast to the floor, followed by his socks and trousers.

“Lie down on the floor, your hands to your sides” he ordered in a tightly controlled voice.

He snatched a clean towel from the rack, and swung it into a roll. Oh-oh! What have I done now? He’s not going to beat with that, is he? Why?

I do as I’m told, and without a word I lay myself down on the cool tile floor, watching him as he took another clean towel from the rack wrapping it around the first towel into a thick roll. When the towel roll was shaped to his satisfaction he tested it, whacking it against his open palm. I could feel the lump in my throat growing and my body betraying me. While my head shrank from his obvious intention, my body craved it. My belly muscles clenched as my legs shifted over the tiles restlessly.

“Be still woman!” he snapped as he stepped over me, straddling my body, his long hard cock jutting from his hips. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes for a moment. He laughed and dropped to his knees, seating himself on top of my ribcage. My arms were trapped to my side by his knees. In one smooth motion he lifted my head and pushed the towel roll under it. I breathed a sigh of relief. He'd only made me a pillow.

His hard cock lay warm on my chest, almost touching my chin. “Am I too heavy?”

I thought for a moment. Yes, his weight was pinning me down, but it didn’t feel like I was being crushed. I felt... deliciously trapped. “No, Sir.”

“You will tell me if you start to feel like I’m crushing you!” He spoke in a voice that brooked no argument or discussion.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Don’t forget it!”

“No, Sir.”

“Good. Now, back to that smart-arse mouth that belongs to me…” He smiled wickedly, rotated his hips forward. Grabbing his cock, he pulled it upward to let it fall hard, smacking my cheek with a soft thud. I rotated my head trying to capture it with my mouth. He pulling it up and out of reach before my lips found it, and he let it smack down against my nose. I squirmed restlessly beneath him, because I wanted his cock in my mouth now.

“I… told… you… to… be… still!” he admonished, gently beating my face with his throbbing cock with each word.

I smiled, my eyes widening in excitement. “Yes, Sir.”

He clucked his tongue in mock disapproval again. “What shall I do with you, my dear?”

Feed me your cock! My mind screamed, but I remained silent watching him with unabashed hunger in my eyes.

“I think it’s time you learned to control your greed, my dear.” He reached behind him, his fingers trailing down my belly to the apex of my thighs. His deft fingers ran down my groove drawing a line of moist from thick pool building between my legs and pulling it up to my swollen clit.

“Oh, you greedy girl! Shame on you!“ he mocked smiling as he tightened his abdomen muscles lifting his cock.

Watching it move was near torture. Oh, how I longed to hold it still and guide it into my mouth. I tried to slip a hand free, desperate to pull him closer to me. They were trapped. The moment he felt me trying to free my hands he squeezed his knees tighter effectively preventing me from moving my arms.

His smile was cruel when he drew another line of moisture up to my clit and began to play my sex like an instrument. I couldn’t stop writhing beneath him. His finger played slow torturous circles around my bud of lust. He captured it between his thumb and finger, rolling it gently. It was practically my undoing. I moaned loudly, giving voice to my burning need. He knew me well and knew exactly when I was on the cusp between succumbing to my desire and maintaining my self-control. He demanded everything from me, including my self-control. And now that became his, too. I felt my self-control dissolve, like an Aspirin in water, as my body began to tremble uncontrollably beneath him.

Mr Lennox stopped immediately remaining motionless above me, looking at me with the gaze of a tiger pawing at its prey. I panted, trying to catch my breath, my senses reeling. I knew what he wanted now. The words. I loved to please him, but… oh, how I hated begging. And because I loathed begging, he enjoyed it all the more. I closed my eyes and took a steadying breath.

“Please, Sir…” I acquiesced.

“Please what, my dear?”

“Please feed me, Sir” I whispered breathlessly.

He looked playful and thoughtful for a moment. “What would you like? Some fruit perhaps, or a sandwich?”

I grunted my frustration, clenching my teeth. He was such a cruel tease. I seethed, bit my lip and sighed. Swallowing hard, I tried again. “Please feed me your cock, Sir.”

“Oh...” His smile was disgustingly triumphant. “That’s what you’d like.” He laughed, suddenly leaning forward to plunge himself deep inside my mouth.

A low moan of satisfaction came from deep inside my throat, feeling the fullness of him again. He held himself there, while he reached behind him to tease my clit again. It was more than sensitised now, and my eyes snapped open in panic when I realised that as long as his delicious cock was down my throat, I couldn’t possibly ask permission to cum. And if I didn’t ask for permission first, then I wasn’t allowed to cum. I groaned against his cock, feeling my belly muscles flex in desperate desire. I willed my body to think of anything but of cumming, but my body wasn’t listening – not with his throbbing cock in my mouth. Fire spread through my belly, my hips lifted forward in response to the sweet sensation his fingers were making against my clit.

Again he stopped suddenly, withdrawing his cock from my hungry mouth. I was burning up, almost savage because of this start-and-stop nonsense. My chest heaved trying to catch its breath. He lifted himself slightly, making it easier for me to breathe. He looked down at me expectantly. My eyes narrowed defiantly for a moment before they went back to begging. He wants his pound of flesh, and he knows how to get it.

“Please, Sir!” I begged in a husky voice that didn’t seem like my own.

“Please what, my dear?” he asked with exaggerated politeness.

“Please, Sir! I need to cum!” My voice was raw with desperation.

He looked for a moment as if he was deliberating. I lifted my head, and I could just reach the head of his cock with my tongue. I paid him back in kind with slow licks on his throbbing cock head. He closed his eyes letting a soft deep growl escape his throat. When he opened his eyes again his voice was tight.

“Do you want to cum for me?”

“Yes!” I hissed between licks, but stopped when he mirrored my motions on my clit again. “I want…” I gasped at his finger swirling over my clit. “I want to cum for you, Sir!”

“Then cum for me, my dear”, he whispered, moving his finger faster.

His words released me like the clicking spring in a ballpoint pen. My legs squirmed restlessly beneath him. My back arched as I felt the rush of my orgasm flood through me. A loud moan I didn’t recognise as my voice escaped my throat that mutated into a silent scream. I fell into the sweetest sense of nothingness, where time and sound stopped for a beat of a heart, before my body began to shake in sob-like spasms. The sensation seemed to go on and on, vacillating between silent bliss and violent contractions of pure pleasure.

Just when I thought it was over, his fingers brushed against my over-sensitive clit again, setting me off on another round of cascading throes of orgasm. It seemed like he couldn’t get enough of this. When he touched my clit again, he inserted his cock into my mouth before I could cry out, and slowly began to fuck my mouth. Unable to cry out, tears welled in my eyes; my groan of pleasure muting against the motion of his thick cock. I coughed, choking on his cock, my breathing erratic. He immediately pulled himself out of my mouth, watching me to see if I was all right. Wordless I nodded that I was okay, and let my head fall back limply against the towels, my eyes glazed over in simplistic bliss.

His fingers wrapped around his cock and he began to pump himself slowly at first then gathered speed until he stifled a rough growl and climaxed. His hot seed shot out in hot spurts all over my chest and breasts. He groaned as one last spurt of seed oozed out of twitching cock. He fell forward on his arms, spent and breathing raggedly as he stared into my eyes. That predator look in his eyes was gone, replaced with something soft and affectionate. Gently he stroked my face, making me sigh with content. When he bent to kiss me with infinite tenderness I thought I’d burst out in tears.

“Thank you for your sweet gift, my dear girl”, he whispered.

My eyes squeezed shut, suppressing the liquid gathering in my eyes. No, I wouldn’t let him see that. I would not let him see how much I loved John Lennox.

Please continue reading in Chapter 2 - The link is at the top of this page - Please click on the Number "2" at the top. Thank you.

© Copyright 2021 Celeste Neumann. All rights reserved.


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